


Something Could Change

by randomramblesff



Category: GLOW (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon, Sam x Ruth, Season 3, post-season 3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-27 05:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20402701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomramblesff/pseuds/randomramblesff
Summary: A look at life after Vegas for Sam and Ruth.





	1. What It Could Lead To

“Ruth, hi, it’s me, Sam. Look, I don’t know if you’re back from visiting your family or wherever you’ve gone but I want to speak to you about the movie, alright? Justine’s movie? I get that maybe you won’t want to, which is fine but, just, if you could listen, okay? It’s a new opportunity. Just call me, alright? Alright. Okay.”

“Hi, it’s me, Sam, again. I guess you’re not back from wherever you are yet so, I’m just leaving this message in case you ever return. Call me if you want to be in this movie, okay? I get why you might have some kind of reservation now but at least hear me out, alright? Okay. Just call me, Ruth.”

“Alright Ruth, you know what they say. Third times the charm our whatever the fuc-.”

“Sam?”

“Oh Jesus Christ, look who finally picked up the phone. Sam, yeah, hi, how are you?”

“I-,” Ruth pauses, shifting her shoulders to get comfortable where she’s lying on her bed. Truthfully, she’s exhausted after a full day of travelling but he doesn’t need to know that. “I’m fine, yeah, how are you? I only just got back so; I just heard all your messages.”

“Yeah, yeah, about that. Look, Justine wants you in the movie, okay? There’s a role, the uh, the babysitter? The actress they went for… Justine doesn’t think she’s right for it, okay? So, she wants you, Ruth. And, before you ask, no this wasn’t my idea. I’m not doing this to try and fix anything between us, okay? You know I’m not like that, so, just, can you take it, please? Be in the movie?”

Instead of bouncing off the walls or stifling an excited scream into a pillow like she used to do over every menial job that came her way, she sighs and sinks a little further into her mattress, chewing her teeth on her bottom lip.

On the other end of the line, Sam rubs his thumb and forefinger over the bridge of his nose, feeling unknowingly just as exhausted as Ruth is but for other reasons.

“Ruth? You still there?”

“Yeah, yeah… I’m just… thinking.”

She hears him sigh loudly, the sound vibrating against her ear, so she knows he’s still there after a moment or two.

“Debbie offered me a job as a director.” She ends up blurting out, not sure how else to respond to his proposal.

“What? What does that mean?”

“She, well, Bash bought a TV network and she’s gonna’ run it and she…” Ruth throws up a hand and lets it fall again, even though he can’t see, “… she asked me to help direct a new version of the show.”

“Fuck… so, you’re gonna’ take it, right?”

“No! No… no.” She breathes, composing herself, “I don’t want to direct.”

“Seriously? Come on, Ruth… look at GLOW, you’re a fucking great director. Or, you _could _be. You carried that show more than I did and we all fucking know it.”

“I… don’t say that, I barely did anything, I was just… helping. I… I don’t want to direct.”

Another sigh rattles through her receiver, louder this time.

“So, what? You’re just gonna’ throw away that opportunity?”

“I don’t see it as throwing it away. I wanna’ be an actor. I wanna’ act.”

“Alright, well if you’re not gonna’ direct, at least take this movie.”

“I…” He can tell by the rustling over the line that she’s shaking her head in that stubborn little way of hers, “I… I don’t think it’s the right time. Justine… Justine obviously didn’t want me in it for a reason and I don’t… I can’t just say yes, Sam.”

“Why? Why, Ruth? I mean, you just told me you don’t want to direct because you want to be an actor. So, be a fucking actor.”

“It’s not...”

Ruth turns on her bed, tucking her legs up so she’s in the fetal position; wishing she didn’t love him, wishing she hadn’t spent her whole winter vacation wrapped up in the same way, agonising over what to do next.

“Ruth, when are you gonna' realise that Hollywood isn’t built on, on... fucking, people with morals? It’s not. Think of all the people who fucking suck dick just to get commercial work, I mean, come on. The people who get up, get up because they use fucking nepotism. I'm not saying you would be but give yourself a break. I mean, have I got to, I don’t know, get Justine to persuade you?”

When she doesn’t answer immediately, she hears him call out, the phone obviously held at a distance.

“Justine? Justine? Can you come in here, please? ... What? No, I’m not fucking dying. I’m on the phone to Ruth... no, she's being Ruth about it... It means I need you to come in here and talk to her... I _am_ talking to her but it’s obviously not working, Justine, otherwise I wouldn’t be asking... Honestly, fucking teenagers.”

Ruth rolls her eyes, a tiny glimmer of a smile breaking through on her face just from simply hearing Sam be Sam.

“Ruth?”

She sits up then, resting her chin on the tops of her knees.

“Hey, Justine.”

“So... are you gonna' be in the movie, or what? Seriously, this actress we have in... she just doesn’t work for the role and I think you'd be perfect. The teacher just wasn’t for you, that’s the only reason we didn’t cast you. You were amazing... honestly, your audition was one of the best and I swear to god, I’m not just saying that.”

“Thanks...” Ruth whispers.

“Seriously, I don’t wanna' do this without you. Please? If anything... the only reason I got this movie is that Sam got his shit together in some way or another and I know part of that was to do with yo-.” There's a rattling noise then, the phone being tugged on.

“That’s not true, don’t give her the satisfaction.” Sam spits out before Justine claims the phone back. Ruth laughs silently but catches herself before tucking her hair behind her ear and taking a deep breath.

“Ignore him. Look, even the producer agrees the role needs recasting and you were up there at the top of the list, I promise. I don’t even know why I need to convince you because... it’s gonna' be fucking great! And if you really need to hear it, just think of what it could lead to.”

Ruth doesn’t know what to believe but she knows how hard they’re trying. It makes her think back to Debbie and the airport and the, “If being an actor was gonna' happen for you, it would've happened by now.” 

She takes an even deeper breath and closes her eyes. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll... I'll do it. I'll be whatever you want me to be.” 

“Yay! Yay! Oh my god, yes, I’m so glad. It’s gonna' be great. Ah, okay! Thank you, thank you, thank you, Ruth!” 

“Shouldn’t I really be the one thanking you?” Ruth asks, an unseen eyebrow raised. 

“Don’t worry about it. Okay, I’m leaving you with Sam. I'll see you soon, right?” She nods because the answer is obvious. She knows when Sam is back on the line, just from the scratchiness of his breathing. 

“I take it from Justine’s fucking squealing and repulsive grin that you said yes?” 

“I did.”

“Oh, Ruth. Come on, shoot. What are you not saying?” She frowns, wanting to lie back down again but also not wanting to move so she doesn’t miss anything. 

“What... what do you mean?” She asks, knowing what he means. 

“Look, I wanna' be a fucking adult about it, okay? You know me but... in my personal opinion, the ball is in your court, Ruth. I mean, you tell me you love me and then... you fucking rip the rug out from under my feet, you know? I don’t wanna' talk about it over the phone but... we're gonna' have to, alright? Maybe I should have brought this up before getting you to say yes to the movie but I don’t know, that’s not my responsibility. Alright?” 

She has to get off the bed and stand up then as if standing her ground literally, will help her get through the conversation. 

“It wasn’t just about you, I-.” 

“Stop, I don’t wanna' do this over the phone, there’s no point.” 

“If it’s not your responsibility, then can you let me talk, please?” Sam does the opposite of Ruth, sinking further into the armchair in the corner of his bedroom. 

“Alright, fine, go ahead.” 

“It wasn’t just about you... I... I had a lot going on, in my head.” 

“Yeah, no shit.” “Sam!” Ruth cries out, biting her tongue. “Please? Can you listen?” 

“Sorry, sorry.” 

She waits a beat, just to ensure he really is going to stay quiet.

“I was... happy... because of... because of you. And so, I thought that it was finally it; that I was gonna' get a part and you'd called me out because it was certain and you know, maybe I was willing to accept a head start because... because it was _you_ and it wasn't me having to... give some asshole a blow job or do a thousand favours just to even have myself _considered _for an audition.”

“And then when you told me I wasn’t getting the part, I guess, yeah, I assumed the worst about you because I was hurt and I was... I was hurt because apparently, I couldn’t even get a job from someone who knows me. You’re not Debbie, Sam. You know I don’t want an empire; I just want to act and I want it to be _good. _I want a script like Justine’s.”

Sam pat’s the chest pocket on his shirt for a cigarette then, before remembering they’re in the other room in a locked box which has been _un_locked more times than he can count.

“Do you want me to say sorry, Ruth? Because you know I’m not gonna’. You have to toughen up.”

“Toughen up? You just said I pulled the _rug out _from beneath you.”

“Yeah, alright but that’s a little bit different, don’t you think? You told me you loved me.”

“Yeah, and you told me you loved me, too.”

“Well, do you, Ruth? Do you love me? Or did you just say it because you were fucking happy?”

Ruth's pacing up and down the length of her room, toe-to-heel, toe-to-heel.

“I told you... I was happy because of you.”

Sam tries not to focus on the indirectness of her answer and asks the only question that truly needs answering, in his mind.

“Can I ask you about Russell? Is he gone now, is he out of the picture?”

“I... we haven’t officially, you know, broken up but I haven’t spoken to him since he left for Spain. I haven’t had any calls from him, so... go figure.”

“Spain? He went to fucking Spain? Jesus Christ, I mean I get that it was hard enough you going to Vegas but he left you for another fucking continent? Jesus Christ, what an asshole.”

“We weren’t really there yet... I couldn’t make him stay. _Not, _that I wanted him to.”

“Yeah, don’t fucking defend him, alright?”

When Ruth goes to answer, she suddenly realises where she is; her fingers tracing over Sam's watch that's fallen out of her half-unpacked bag on the foot of her bed.

“No, I just mean... you don’t have to worry.”

“Good.” Sam says, defiantly.

Looking at the face of the watch, she jumps back.

“Oh god, wait, when do you even need me? Like, on set? I need to prepare, run through my lines.”

“We need you in for a costume fitting tomorrow, you know, sign a contract, all that bullshit.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, Ruth, we're making a fucking movie.”

“Um, okay, yeah... wait, the commute... from here to set... that’s gonna'... can I? Can I stay with you? Unless that’s totally inappropriate or awkward, or...”

“Yeah, whatever, Ruth. Just be ready, alright?”

“I will. I will. Okay, I should... unpack and then re-pack, I guess.”

“Wait, before you go,” Sam leans forward in his chair, scratching his ear, “what is this, with Bash? A network?”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? We have... a lot to catch up on.”

“Yeah, right, yeah... we do.”

Ruth hangs up and only then does it hit Sam that he didn’t think to ask whether she wants to take the couch or the empty space in his bed.


	2. This Is Gonna’ Be Fucking Unbearable

“I’ll get it!” Justine calls out, dashing from out the kitchen as the doorbell rings.

“No, I’ll get it! I'll get it.” Sam cries out louder as he leaves his bedroom, his fingers fumbling as he tries to figure out his collar.

“Why does it matter who gets it?” Justine throws her hands up in the air, mid-way to the front door.

“Because she’s my guest!”

“Uh, no she’s not, she’s my guest, it’s my movie.”

“Oh really?” Sam tilts his head, stopping to lean his hand on the dining table.

“Okay, it’s _our _movie. So, we should both get it.”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

A few moments later, the door flings open like a real-estate commercial, Sam and Justine on either side, their grins wide and glaring. Ruth's eyes bug out, her teeth gritted.

“Hi... is everything okay?”

“Yeah, Justine was just being a little brat about who opens the door first.”

“A little brat?” Justine frowns in bemusement, making Ruth laugh.

“Can I maybe put my bag down? It’s kinda' heavy.”

“Oh yeah, Jesus, give it here I'll take it.” Sam leans forward, a hand outstretched.

“Oh, you don’t have to-.”

He takes the bag before she has the chance to finish her sentence, his fingers brushing hers. She smiles tightly up at Justine before rolling her eyes and relaxing into a welcoming hug.

“Ah! This is gonna' be the best!” Justine exclaims brightly, her hands up in the air as Sam squeezes past them both to close the door.

“I hope you won’t get sick of me.”

“What? No, of course not. You'll be shooting for what, ten days, two weeks at the most? And then you'll be free to go home. We won’t get sick of you, right, Sam?” She asks, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Eh, I can’t make any promises.” Sam shrugs before smiling softly back at Ruth who smirks and finally starts walking into the living room.

“So, uh, when do we need to get Ruth to the fitting, Justine?”

“Like, an hour?”

“Right so with all the fucking traffic, that’s like twenty minutes. You want coffee?” He points at Ruth. She raises her shoulder and goes to speak but he cuts her off. “Alright, a hot chocolate. I’ll see if we have anything.”

“I wasn’t gonna’…” Ruth shakes her head, following behind Justine to the dining table where there are papers – scripts, notecards, what look like signed contracts – scattered across the surface.

In the kitchen, Sam knows he doesn’t have to look far because he may or may not have quickly dashed to the store to stock up on some essentials and the odd thing here and there that he knew Ruth would appreciate. That’s not information he’s willing to let her in on though; he deserves the chance to reserve at least _some _of his dignity.

“So, how does it feel? To be making an actual movie? I never knew screenwriting could run through a family but… clearly, it does.” Ruth asks, trailing her fingers over the table whilst tilting her head to get a better look at different highlighted sections of the script.

“I don’t know… it’s weird. I didn’t expect it to all happen so quickly. I mean, forget the screenwriting, I owe a lot to Sam for getting me this far.”

“What? No, you’re his _daughter. _I’m sure he would do anything for you.”

“Eh, that’s debatable.” Sam interrupts, leaning one arm on the kitchen doorframe, the other steadily holding a steaming mug of hot chocolate. Ruth rolls her eyes at him – affectionally, Sam notices – mouthing a thank you as she takes it from him.

“Thanks, _Dad.” _Justine jests, sticking her tongue out childishly.

“Oh yeah, I guess you missed all that. She’s officially my daughter now, I signed paperwork and everything.”

Ruth turns to scan his face, a smile stretching across her own as she looks between the both of them.

“Really? That’s… so great, I’m glad to hear it.”

Justine looks away bashfully, mirroring Sam who starts scratching the back of his head, his nose crinkled up.

“Did you… do anything to celebrate?” Ruth asks, grinning up at Sam who’s glancing down at her.

“Kinda’?” Justine shrugs before getting distracted by Ruth starting to sip on her drink, “Hey! Just because Ruth didn’t want coffee, doesn’t mean I didn’t.”

“What? So, what? You’ve got hands! You’ve got two feet so you can walk. There’s a kitchen, right there. Make your own fucking coffee.”

Ruth’s lips form a pouting O shape in shock at Sam’s bluntness, soon sending her into laughter once Justine’s pushed past him and left them alone for the first time since her arrival.

“Woah… I totally forgot what it’s like being around you.” She turns to face him, smirking over the rim of her mug as she starts to drink it more comfortably, now it’s starting to cool.

“What does that mean? You change your mind on me?” Sam asks, edging closer into Ruth’s personal space, the heat from her hot chocolate gradually steaming up his glasses.

“No… I was kidding.” She bites her lip, her eyes tracing his face, landing on his stubble-covered dimples, “I missed you.”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna’ say the same. You’re fucking annoying most of the time.” Sam shakes his head, looking off to the side, his gaze falling on the view out the window before he turns back and matches Ruth’s laugh.

Before they know it, they’re leaning closer and closer towards each other until they’re kissing softly and sweetly and briefly because –

“Wait, we shouldn’t… you know, Justine? I should probably give her some warning.”

Ruth nods slowly, licking her lips together as they put distance back between each other.

“And...” She carries on nodding, trying to make sense of it all, “...the movie. Should probably keep things professional.”

“Ruth, no one fucking cares about that, alright? I’m just... she’s my daughter, I don’t wanna' just dump this on her. Especially when it’s something real, you know?”

“Dump what on me?”

Sam and Ruth step away from one another, finding Justine stood behind them with her arms crossed.

“That... that you should be clearing out your room for Ruth to stay in, you know, as a guest who deserves more than a couch.”

“What?” Ruth taps Sam on his arm before putting down her half-drunk mug on the table. “Justine doesn’t have to do that. I'm fine on the couch. I did it with a broken ankle, remember?”

“Yeah, I’m not moving. Sorry, Ruth. _You_ move!” Justine argues back.

“I, I... ugh, fine. I'll move. Ruth, you’re taking my bed.” Sam turns and throws a hand up towards the door.

“What? No, you’re directing a movie. You can’t sleep on a couch for two weeks.”

“I’ll be fine. I have a trailer now, it has a whole fucking bed in it.”

“A trailer?” Ruth teases by seeming overly impressed.

“Yeah, it’s got my fucking name on the door and everything.”

“Wow...” Ruth winks over her shoulder to Justine before following behind Sam who's taken her bag from where he left it on the living room floor. Justine stays put, her eyes squinted as she tries to put two-and-two together.

“Come on, put your bag away and then we'll get on the road. I’ve just gotta' check there’s nothing you wouldn’t wanna' see lying around in there.”

Ruth rolls her eyes, peering around Sam to see into his room. She’s never actually been in, so, she’s not sure what she ever expected.

“Alright, alright, not too bad. See? The sheets are clean, no cigarettes are lying around. You’re impressed right?”

She smiles before raising an eyebrow as Sam reaches behind her to close the door.

“Why are you...?”

“Because I wanna' fucking kiss you again, that’s why.”

Her response falls from her mouth as Sam cups his hands around her face, her bag once again abandoned to the floor by their feet.

He kisses her deeply this time, their tongues moving together, Ruth's hands finding his jaw.

Sam pulls away momentarily, laughing and breathing into her ear.

“Oh god, you taste like fucking hot chocolate.”

They carry on kissing, all hot and breathy and hearts racing; sending them back to that night before things turned sour.

Sam pulls away for a second time then, leaving Ruth wide-eyed and her chest heaving.

“Wait, are you still mad at me?”

She shakes her head and sighs, her eyes fixated on his mouth.

“I’m... able to admit when I’m wrong.”

“Okay, okay, good, yeah.”

He kisses her again, this time pressing kisses up and under her jawline, making Ruth bite her lip and internally squeal like she’s back in high school, not sure how to handle a guy making a move on her.

“Oh god, this is gonna’ be fucking unbearable.” He moans into her ear. Ruth laughs with her hands in his hair.

“What is?”

“Working with you and not being able to touch you.”

“Well... you seem to have survived before.”

“This is different. I’m allowed to touch you now, right?”

They peel apart only to fall back towards each other, their noses touching.

“I thought you said you had a trailer...”

“Ruthie!” Sam chuckles, his hands ticking her waist.

“Dad, we should-“ Justine slams the door open, the width of it only just missing the back of Ruth who clings onto Sam tighter in surprise.

“Oh, yeah okay, that makes sense. No-one's sleeping on the couch, after all!” Justine throws her hands up in the air and walks away, leaving Sam to loosen his grip on Ruth and follow.

“Justine! Justine! Come on...”

Ruth grits her teeth and stays frozen in her spot, scrunching up her face as she waits for an onslaught of raised voices.

“What? Why? I’m happy for you!”

“Alright!”

“Yeah!”

“Wait! You are?”

“Yeah! Yeah... I like Ruth. So, yeah. It’s nice to see you happy, Sam.”

“Well... alright. I like Ruth too, yeah. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Ruth stands at Sam's door, watching. She blushes and chews on her bottom lip, waiting for Sam to turn and notice her. He doesn’t turn for a moment though, obviously giving himself some time to let it all sink in, so, she ends up joining them both instead.

“We... ready to go?”

Justine grins, pulling open the front door.

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

**Author's Note:**

> Eek! This fic is writing itself with no plan whatsoever, so, here's hoping it turns out okay. I guess I'm fully aboard this ship, now!


End file.
